Unbroken Promises
by stargarnet
Summary: Her intense eyes of molten gold resurrected themselves again in the darkness, my one redemption, my one hope, my one love, my one beacon of light. The light that had never been mine, the light I had extinguished. It didn't matter. Because in the end? In the end, she would never be mine. Tomione, Oneshot.


_You promised._

Tears ran down her face, seamless, endless.

She went back for him.

She gave up everything for him.

She turned the tides of time for him, repaved the path of the past and the future for him.

She _gave_ herself to him, without demand, without question. Unconditionally.

And he threw it all away.

Of course in the beginning it hadn't been for him. It had been for Harry - for Harry, Ron, her parents, Professor Dumbledore, Ginny, Mrs Weasley. For the Greater Good. And then he turned it all around: he tore away her guard; he swept her off her feet; he blew her away. And sometimes she'd been tempted, tempted to let him run his course because he had been so persuasive, so compelling - almost, only, of course. And yet he had turned her cheek, he remolded her perspectives, he made her believe he had changed, made her think she'd won, made her think he loved her.

But he didn't.

And as she leaped to take the place of the boy who she couldn't bear for the green of the curse to take the place of the emerald of his eyes, half a strangled sob lodged in her throat, and that was the last thought that ran through her head, the last fleeting realization that once again possessed her mercilessly in her last moment.

But he didn't.

Maybe it had been the way he walked. Confident. Graceful.

_Arrogant._

Maybe it had been the way he spoke. Softly. Gently.

_Dominating_

Maybe it had been the way he smiled. Charming. Charismatic.

_Mocking._

Maybe it had been the way he looked at her. Superior. Disbelieving.

_Possessive._

Or maybe it was the whispered promises under tinkling glass hearts that hung from willow tree boughs.

_Empty lies._

Because even as his arm jerked back, Tom Marvolo Riddle, reincarnate of Lord Voldemort in his original form, reincarnate of the merciless devil, exquisite face of a fallen angel, ethereal grace of a distant star, frozen heart of an inhuman puppet, had a face wiped of emotion. He took a deep breath and on sculpted red lips curled a slight smirk as Harry James Potter fell to his knees, cradling the limp head of Hermione Jean Granger in his arms.

Emerald eyes swimming with pain looked up and he found himself locked in the boy's gaze, a fierce, piercing glare of rage, of disbelief and of pity.

"Didn't you love her?" he whispered. He dropped her head to the ground and brought himself unsteadily to his feet. Tom Riddle, standing opposite the Potter boy, amid a carpet of corpses, was unmoved. "Didn't you love her?! Didn't you promise?! You made a promise!" he voice rose to a strangled scream as his knees half buckled and he grabbed onto the edge of an upturned table to steady himself.

"You promised - you promised you would love her! Forever!"

Tom shook his head a little, the smile never leaving his face, wand tip never leaving target. "Poor little Hermione," he said softly, and the words tingled down Harry's spine, lusciously soft, deliciously articulate, bitter satisfaction. "She was like a maelstrom, really - pulling me deeper and deeper into her little whirlpool, her vortex of mysteries and charms. I was enchanted. I was drawn. But in the end? In the end, I was stronger."

Harry straightened, and he cursed his knees for shaking, cursed his eyes for blurring and stinging, but mostly cursed Tom, for doing this, to Hermione, to all of them.

"She was so captivating. I'd never met anyone like her. So much potential, so much power." Tom closed his eyes briefly and for a moment her intense eyes of molten gold resurrected itself in the darkness of his mind. "But so wasted." His eyes snapped open again.

"Liar!" Harry spat furiously, drawing a quick hand over his eyes. "Hermione was the best! She's a thousand times better than you!"

There was a brief pause, and a bigger smile twisted on Tom's lips, except it grew bitter - pained, almost. "Ah, yes. She was special. I could see that. She drew me in with every word, every action - everything about her drew me in that sickening, wrong way a lion is sometimes drawn to a lamb - or a snake to a lion." His smile twisted to little more than a grimace. Then it vanished from his face abruptly.

"Enough talk. You threw it all away when you let your little Mudblood friend die. It's time to say goodbye, Potter," he sneered, his grip tightening on his wand.

"No," Harry said quietly. "You threw it all away, when you discarded her love."

Tom only shook his head, a slight smile coming back to his face. "Oh, Potter. Don't you see? I never broke my promise. I will always love her. And she will always love me." And his eyes hardened. "But you. She loved you more." And for a moment Harry thought Tom's eyes seemed a little too bright. "And I hate you for it." And for a moment Harry thought a spasm of anguish flitted across Tom's pale countenance. "Because then I knew."

And there was a flash of green light, and the fading of emeralds. And Harry would never know what he knew.

There was a silence.

And Tom closed his eyes.

Her intense eyes of molten gold resurrected themselves again in the darkness, his one redemption, his one hope, his one love, his one beacon of light. The light that had never been his, the light he had extinguished.

"That in the end - signed contracts, whispered oaths, and gold bands - didn't matter. In the end, she would never be mine."

And for the first time in his life, Tom felt something cold seep down his cheek.

_I promise._


End file.
